Greed
by nicevenn
Summary: Smaug has acquired a new treasure, and he wants to watch it play. Written for a prompt at Hobbit Kink. Pure silliness. No beastiality - Smaug's just watching.


The first thing Thranduil noticed upon waking was the pain radiating from his skull. He groaned and lifted a hand to the left side of his head, and found what felt like dried blood in his hair. He blinked and focused his gaze. Above him were great stone pillars cast in a fiery light – a glow that brightened and dimmed as if to the rhythm of slow, deep breathing. The air smelled of smoke.

He froze and listened, his senses sharpening but not nearly as keen as they usually were. There was a low rumbling sound coming from behind him, interrupted every now and then by a puff of air. His blood ran cold.

Gold and jewels fell from his cloak as he sat up and whipped his head around, hissing in pain. His eyes landed on a massive serpent with bat-like wings and a glowing belly.

"Smaug!"

Instinct made Thranduil jump to his feet and reach for his sword – although it wouldn't do him any good – but he found his scabbard empty. He took a step back.

"Thranduil, Elvenking," Smaug purred. His voice was deep and powerful, and it echoed around the walls of the great chamber. "Welcome to my treasure hoard."

And a magnificent hoard it was. All around them, as far as the light from Smaug's belly reached, were piles of gold littered with silver, jewels, and other precious things. Thranduil's mouth dropped open, and for a moment he forgot the fear and hatred the sight of the dragon had aroused.

Coins shifted beneath his boots as he turned in a circle, taking it all in, until he met Smaug's eyes again. "What am I doing here?"

Smaug chuckled. "As you can see, I have a vast amount of treasure – but none that is sentient. None so _alive_."

"You consider me treasure?" Thranduil tried to keep the conversation going while he weighed his options. He could attempt to flee; an Elf might be able to outmaneuver a dragon in a dungeon full of arches and pillars, but he was weak from his injury and his senses and reflexes were dulled. Magic was another option, but again, he wasn't sure he had the strength to wield enough power in his current state.

"Treasure comes in many forms," Smaug said, closing in on his captive. "You're pretty, and I haven't been entertained in far too long."

"_Entertained_?" Thranduil repeated, fear coursing through his veins once more as he wondered what could possibly constitute entertainment for such a vile creature.

"Yes." Smaug's head was only a few feet away from Thranduil's face now. His breath was hot and smelled of ash, and it made Thranduil turn away. "Elves play, do they not?"

"Elflings do."

"Not that kind of play," Smaug said sharply. Then he made a show of looking the Elvenking up and down. "Your armor is covered in blood and filth. It doesn't become you – take it off."

The blood drained from Thranduil's face, but he lifted his chin and held his ground. "No. Incinerate me, if you wish. I will not disrobe for your pleasure."

"No?" Smaug bared his teeth in a malicious smile. "I can kill you, if that's what you choose, but then I'll find your son. Perhaps he will do what you will not."

_Legolas_.

Suddenly Thranduil remembered everything. Legolas leaving the realm against his command. The battle. He wondered if it was over, if his son was safe.

"Leave Legolas out of this."

"Will you do as I ask?"

Thranduil closed his eyes and sighed. His body felt heavy with dread and disgust, but he would not put Legolas in danger. "Yes, just leave him be."

"You have my word, Elvenking."

Thranduil placed no trust in Smaug's word, but if he dragged this out long enough someone might come his rescue. He knew that it would probably be the very Elf he was trying to protect, but at least Legolas would be prepared and bring help.

Smaug's eyes lit up as Thranduil began to remove his armor. Piece by piece it fell to the treasure-littered ground. _Clink, clink, clink._ He stopped when he was down to his tunic and trousers.

Smaug shifted his weight from wing to wing. "Go on."

Thranduil's cheeks burned as he pulled his tunic over his head and began to unlace his trousers. It had been over a thousand years since anyone had seen him naked. But despite his embarrassment, he drew himself up and faced Smaug. "Do you like what you see, worm?"

"You've gone limp," Smaug said. "I could smell your arousal earlier, while your eyes were feasting on my treasure hoard."

"Perhaps that's because I'm being ogled by a dragon."

Smaug huffed, releasing billows of smoke from his nostrils. "Let me see you roll around in my gold – that should reawaken your interest, Elvenking."

Smaug lunged forward and pushed him with his snout. Thranduil fell backward into a high pile of treasure, and Smaug used his wing to scatter gold and silver coins over his torso. But Thranduil's attention was elsewhere.

"Ah," Smaug said when he noticed Thranduil gazing open-mouthed at a small chest of sparkling white gems, "you've found what you most desire. Take it. Pour them all over yourself."

Thranduil picked up the chest with trembling hands and lifted its lid. The jewels gleamed in the warm light. His breath caught in his chest, a smile forming on his lips.

"It would be such a waste," he whispered to himself even as some depraved part of him wanted to do as Smaug instructed. If he spilled the gems, it would be impossible to find them all again.

"Do it!"

Cursing under his breath, Thranduil arched his back and tilted the chest until the white gems spilled out like a sparkling waterfall. They bounced off his neck and torso, landing in small heaps on his thighs and on the gold around him.

"Yesss," Smaug hissed. "Now you're becoming aroused. Your greed nearly rivals my own."

Thranduil's face burned. He looked down at himself; his swelling cock was jutting out in between his jewel-covered thighs. He pressed and rubbed the gems into his skin, the raw pain of it a balm for his embarrassment and humiliation.

"That's it, my lovely Elvenking." Smaug cast more gold onto him and sat back to watch.

Thranduil leaned back, resting on one elbow, and wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock. He hissed as his hand began to move. It had been so long since he'd last touched himself like this; he'd forgotten how good it felt.

Smaug made an awful sound that was something between a purr and a low growl. Thranduil pretended not to hear it. A drop of precome dripped from the tip of his cock, and the sight of it splashing onto a coin on his belly drove him mad with need.

"I had no idea Elves were so lustful," Smaug said as he watched the Elvenking thrust into his fist, head thrown back in ecstasy. "Tell me, fair one, who brought you here?"

Thranduil sat straighter now, supporting himself on his hand instead of his elbow. He was so close, and he felt an inexplicable need to defile as much of as much of Smaug's hoard as possible.

"Who encouraged you to find your pleasure, covered in gold and jewels?"

There was something about the way Smaug always said 'gold' that made Thranduil's cock twitch – the way his tongue caressed the 'l' after the drawn-out 'o.' He tensed and stroked faster, exhaling a shaky breath and sucking in another. His head was starting to throb again, but he didn't care.

"Who gave you what the Dwarves would not?"

"SMAUG!"

Thranduil sat up with a start, a vivid image of come-splattered gold and jewels burned into his mind. His hand flew to his head, and he found it wrapped in some kind of bandage.

"Adar! You're awake," Legolas said, rushing to his side. "How are you feeling?"

"I've felt better." Thranduil realized he was lying on a hard, narrow bed and looked around at the shabby surroundings. "Where are we?"

"Esgeroth," Legolas replied. "Bard's home. You suffered a blow to the head. Smaug is dead." Legolas smiled and added, "I'm glad you're awake."

It took a few seconds for Legolas's words to sink in, but when they did Thranduil threw his head back and laughed, his whole body shaking with the force of it. He stopped when he saw his son's concerned expression. "I had the most horrid dream."

But Legolas blushed and looked away, saying, "Surely it can't have been _that_ bad."

That was when the realization hit him. He was still hard, and a downward glance at his crotch confirmed that the outline of his erection was clearly visible in his trousers. _Damn_.

"Take this," Legolas said, avoiding his eyes, and handed him a folded grey blanket. "I'll give you a moment."

The End.


End file.
